


Hot Soft Light

by shoemaster



Category: Goon (2011)
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoemaster/pseuds/shoemaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From now on, no matter what happens, if you want to punch me in the face or spit in my mouth while I’m asleep, it doesn’t matter. I’m always going to be watching your back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Soft Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [healingmirth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/healingmirth/gifts).



> Thanks to healingmirth for a wide open prompt that let me finally write the fic (okay, the porn) I've been wanting to since February! And to my girls for rewatching the canon with me and helping me sort out what exactly I needed to write and comma wrangling.
> 
> Title thanks to the Hold Steady

"From now on, no matter what happens, if you want to punch me in the face or spit in my mouth while I’m asleep, it doesn’t matter. I’m always going to be watching your back. I think we both have a light in our stomachs, a special light, like E.T., and the team needs somebody to light the way. My stomach light needs your stomach light. We can all phone home together."

Xavier squints up at the ceiling, wondering if maybe he heard Doug wrong through the wall. He makes a split-second decision and shoves the blankets so he can pad across the creaking floorboards. He doesn't even hesitate before pushing his way into Doug's room wearing nothing more than his boxer briefs and a squint. 

"Did you actually want to call home?" Doug asks, "because that was like, a metaphorical...thing and my phone is in the living room."

"The fuck?" Xavier asks, before Doug can keep spitting out words.

Doug pushes himself up on his elbows to look at Xavier. "Did you want to punch me? Because I meant it. You could, if you want. Maybe not in the face, because that might hurt your hands and you've got really nice hands -" 

_Merde_. Xavier doesn't really think about before he slaps Doug across the face. 

It's harder than he meant to, if he meant to at all, but it's still nothing compared to the punches Doug's been taking. (The punches Doug's been taking for him.) His cheek is already turning red beneath the stubble, but Doug doesn't look mad or even surprised. 

Xavier squints at him and then slaps him again.

Doug doesn't even flinch; he just lets out a little sigh, like this is relaxing him. Like he likes it.

“You are fucked up,” Xavier says, before dragging Doug close enough to kiss. Doug may be slow on the ice and make people wonder off of it, but he's quick on the uptake here. It's open-mouthed and sloppy, with the rough slide of Doug's stubble over Xavier's goatee. 

He hadn't been sure if Doug would go for this, not after he brushed off Xavier's last offer of drugs and hand jobs, but he's definitely into it. He's strong, of course, Xavier would have to be an idiot not to expect that, but it's still a bit of a surprise when Doug yanks him forward so they're chest to chest. His hands move frantically over Xavier's shoulders, the calluses scraping against the softer skin before entwining in Xavier's hair, grabbing just a handful.

It would be a bitch move out on the ice, Xavier doesn't have to be a fighter to know that, but it just makes him gasp a little against Doug's mouth. 

"Do you mind if -" Doug pulls away from Xavier to ask, and Xavier doesn't even care what it is.

"Oui, whatever," he says quickly.

Xavier is on his back so fast he's nearly winded, and Doug is hovering over him. _Tabernac,_ he's glad Doug's on his team. He doesn't take up much room on the bus or in the dressing room, but now he's filling up Xavier's whole field of vision, and it's fucking with his head a little.

He's fully hard in his shorts, so he pushes himself up to rub against Doug's thigh; the friction feels good, but the way Doug's whole body shudders makes him smirk. Xavier has fucking awesome ideas, to hell with whatever anyone else says.

"I've never done this before," Doug admits. "With a dude. I mean, my brother is gay. But we never! Just, I know somethings, and Pat talks a lot about it but I don't think he actually knows anything..."

Xavier figured as much, but it's still kind of a shame; he would've liked to try out blowing Doug while Doug sucked him off. The idea's been rattling around since he first saw Doug in his jersey, but that might be too advanced, and Xavier is adaptable. Doug isn't a complete loss, anyway he's already starting to rub back against Xavier, whether or not he's noticed.

His hand is resting gently on Xavier's cheek - an absurdly tender gesture in Xavier's opinion - so he turns his head until he can suck two of Doug's fingers into his mouth. He runs his tongue along them, the scabs on Doug's knuckles scraping the roof of his mouth as he watches Doug's pupils blow up to full size. 

Doug's rocking against him harder and faster, and fuck, Xavier apparently has to be the one to do everything, so he shoves at the waist of Doug's boxers so his dick can be free, then does the same with his own.

Fortunately for them both, Doug figures this out faster than he does skating, lining up both of their cocks to rub against each other. The friction is good, but it's a little rough, and Xavier didn't plan this as well as he could have, so there's no lube, and fuck if he knows where Doug keeps lotion or whatever. Xavier pulls Doug's fingers from his mouth, slowly scraping his teeth along the pads of Doug's fingers, drawing a loud gasp even before he wraps Doug's wet hand around both of their dicks.

"Oh," Doug says. " _Oh._ Yeah. This is good. Wow, yeah."

Xavier could probably get him to shut up pretty easily, but he lets Doug's senseless chatter wash over him as Doug jerks them both off. His free hand is planted right in the middle of Xavier's chest, and it's just pushing down on him as Doug tries to get a better angle and a better grip for both of them. Xavier hopes that it's Doug's full weight behind it, because he's fucking heavy, and he can't tell how much of his own heavy breathing is from the hand job and how much is his rib cage being shoved against his lungs.

He bucks a little against Doug, just to see if he _could_ throw him off. It doesn't work, but he's not trying that hard. Xavier's actually kind of into it, into the way Doug doesn't even seem to realize he's doing it. He wonders would Doug would do to him if he were actually thinking about it. What Doug would let Xavier do to him.

That kind of long-term planning isn't really Xavier's style, so he pulls Doug down for another kiss, this one rougher than before. He bites at the middle of Doug's lip where it's been split four times since he came up from Asstown, USA, and licks it a little when he can taste a coppery tang.

Doug jerks against him, coming all over his hand, some spilling on to Xavier's stomach. He doesn't stop jerking Xavier, the come providing more lubrication than the sweat and spit. Xavier should stop him and give him a nudge down. He's seen the shit Doug eats, he probably wouldn't object to licking his own come off Xavier's cock and sucking him off.

Xavier _really_ likes that idea, too much to see it happen immediately, because he comes with a quick jerk and a long groan into Doug's mouth. It isn't until a minute or two later that he realizes Doug is still kissing him and petting his hair.

Xavier turns his head to the side. “You have any cigarettes in here?”

“Huh?” Doug says. “Oh. No, I don't smoke, my brother's a doctor, so. I have gum?”

Xavier sneaks a look back at him, trying to figure out if Doug is fucking with him. It's a familiar feeling.

“It's peppermint.”

“Yeah, okay.” He'll have a cigarette when he gets back to his room once the flavor dies. He'll probably feel like moving then.


End file.
